A Philosopher’s Mind

I have had this battle in my head before, and oh how I have prayed for it to be gone.

Even as I write this, I wish to burn all of my writings.

The problems I currently face have been touched in “Highly Sensitive Mind“, and I fear that at the moment, my fears are getting the better of me.

Oh, how I would trade for the scientific mind.

Sure, I might be less creative, and creativity is something I cherish, even though I get the feeling from my surroundings that it is worthless, but to be a philosopher is to be in a state of torment to the extent that being a scientist is a godsend.

There is much less ambiguity with science.

Once you find an answer, you can use it and repeat it.

But this is not true of the philosopher: at least to the extent that I believe myself to be.

As I stated in “Highly Sensitive Mind“, the factors that the philosopher considers in order to find peace can be quite overwhelming.

To the non-philosopher, this is a non-understandable issue.

But I imagine, and hope, that my fellow philosophers will sympathize with me.

The hardest part about philosophy is that there is no right answer.

Scientists have it made in this regard, even if it takes a long time to find that one “answer.” There are no “correct” answers in philosophy as there are in mathematics, which is certain to guarantee the philosopher a mental Hell.

Perhaps the only peace that the philosopher feels is when he is philosophizing, but if he is looking for the correct answer, he will never succeed.

Philosophy by nature ensures that there are no correct answers as in mathematics.

Philosophy to me appears to be an infinite series of theories with no sense of conclusion.

This is why the subject is so difficult and currently troubling.

Man likes to find finite, definite answers to things, and philosophy is no such place.

The philosopher must put on a different hat for that.

This article could take up a quantity of volumes that if I were to write from right now until my death, assuming that I would live to be 80, I would not have even scratched the surface to a fingernail’s depth.

This is what is troubling about philosophy: you can encompass yourself in it forever and never come up with any exact answers.

Just theory after theory.

If you are not comfortable with living in your own head, then you should not be a philosopher. Philosophy is a complicated tale.

To imagine the breadth and confusion of philosophy, imagine the philosophy of philosophy.

Surely you can begin to see why I believe philosophy to be an infinite subject, even if it is conjured up in the minds of us limited humans.

As I have elaborated in “A Memorandum on Dreams“, and will attempt to only briefly touch here, humans vary all over every spectrum imaginable.

As I have frequently discussed the similarities between humans in other articles, I will discuss the differences that come to my mind.

Where does one begin?

Certainly, the philosophy of the individual is just as infinite as all of the other philosophies combined.

Infinity leads to infinity.

I suppose that the philosopher would be much more comfortable if he were to have God’s mind, but I suppose that that particular desire did not have its desired effect at the beginning of man’s creation (the Fall).

But still, one cannot help but wonder what a sense of peace would bring, and to the philosopher, at least to this particular one, it is hard to find peace when you are looking for answers.

Perhaps I should have been a scientist, but the subject generally bores me and I know that, for better or for worse, that I was born as a philosopher at heart.

If I could explain the ambiguity of being a philosopher to an outsider that believes everything is simple in his brute mind, surely that would be a great comfort to me and thus, why this article was born.

If I knew which philosophical subject to start with and could stick with it until I found not an answer, but a sense of peace within the never-ending sea of philosophy, then the subject would be more bearable.

But philosophies are all around me, and I do not want my brain to dry up on the beach. Philosophy does give me a sense of peace, even if it in many instances causes depression from confusion or anxiety from a perceived lack of progress.

One can never leave the sea of philosophy, so if you do not have a steady boat, a passion for the ocean, or a vigilant mind, you will immediately start to infinitely drown unless you immediately begin to infinitely paddle.

This is why philosophy is so bittersweet: it is infinite, but Hell for the scientist.

One question that I have been chewing on for months, maybe a year or so now is the question of why we enjoy things.

If you will read “Why I Don’t Watch the News”, you will understand why this has been its own brand of personal Hell for me.

For this article, I will only suffice to say “high-sensation seekers” and “highly-sensitive people.”

The reason that this question has been of a personal Hell to me, as are most of my philosophical inquiries for the same reasons, is that I have found that philosophers such as myself are in low quantity.

I will spare family drama as best I can except to say that I would venture to say that whatever the percentage is of philosophers in the world’s population, the percentage of philosophers within my family tree lineage is exponentially smaller.

Perhaps this is just a perspective of mine and not accurate, but history tells me that my suspicion may be fairly accurate, or even more so.

(I am just now starting to write this article again after months, so give me a break if the new material seems disconnected from the previous).

One thing I’ve noticed about myself (it may at first appear to be off-track, but it is related) is that I am afraid of my work in several areas.

I will write a train of thought, which might be quite long, full of circles that ultimately explain original premises, but after my train of thought is over (they can be quite long: several pages worth) it will ultimately come full circle to its original point.

I suppose that all pieces of non-fiction do this, but the point is that even if the thought that I write is long, there will be extended periods of time between writing on any particular piece.

If it is a short piece, I can write it in seconds (even if the thought behind the piece was subconsciously stewing for a while).

I have an accomplishment fear: “What are all of these finished articles doing in my possession? I MUST WRITE ANOTHER ONE.”

I don’t ever accept my finished work: I want it done and out of my possession.

The only explanation that I have for this is what I previously heard about religion: something similar to the effect of “Don’t take CREDIT for your work: Give the credit to GAW-DUH!”

I’m sorry but if I eventually write thousands of pages without taking credit for any of it, I’m going to eventually stop writing and destroy what I have already written because there is no point to it, and doing it “for God”, while not accepting my own work is an anti-Christian sentiment that would take at least one whole other article to explain.

So in summation, I am afraid of how I write (writing in bunches then stopping for an extended period of time while other thoughts stew), I am afraid of what happens after I write something, and I am afraid of accepting credit for my work.

The last one is my biggest hurdle (it has been forever) and if I don’t solve this one, it’s all meaningless, which is a scary thought (“What am I even doing?”)

Now that these fears have been discussed (though not in full: that will require still yet other articles), perhaps I can get back to the subject at hand, although as I initially said, this is all related (problem-solving: you can see how I make associations, as I previously said, and can hopefully see how gigantic these paths to solutions are with all of these complex, lengthy associations).

So to get back on the point: the torment of a philosopher’s mind.

One thing I will say, to make it clear, is that I ENJOY this.

It isn’t easy, but I love it.

Trying to understand the universe is a lengthy process, but curiosity and understanding are rewarding, even if they take a long time to resolve (if they ever do), and to those that don’t understand: only confusion and ignorance make me miserable.

I cannot settle for either, not out of some misguided moral duty, but out of a love.

As I stated at the beginning of the piece, philosophers are in limited company, but our joys are uncountable.

The torment and hell of the processes to solve these questions are worth it because the entire process is what we love.

That is something that a non-philosopher can’t understand.

A philosopher’s work is never done: as I said, understanding is a sea that tosses you everywhere before you settle down.

There are easier, although less correct, paths to take.

This may appear disconnected and all over the place, but it is all related to problem-solving.

Among the issues discussed were “the factors that the philosopher considers in order to find his peace can be quite overwhelming” (as you can tell by all of the different topics mentioned in this piece), “you can encompass yourself in [philosophy] forever and never come up with any exact answers. Just theory after theory after theory” (with new questions popping into your head constantly), just the sheer number of questions entailed by philosophy (“As I have elaborated in ‘A Memorandum on Dreams‘, and will attempt to only briefly touch here, humans vary all over every spectrum imaginable. As I have frequently discussed the similarities between humans in other articles, I will discuss the differences that come to my mind. Where does one begin? Certainly the philosophy of the individual is just as infinite as all of the other philosophies combined” etc. etc.) and this is only the beginning.

In case you weren’t following along after I started talking about my family problems, all of these are related to figuring out the truth: philosophy means “love of wisdom.”

The first part was to tell you how complicated philosophy is, as well as introducing a couple of examples, then I discussed some family matters as far as how difficult being a philosopher is for me not just in looking for answers, but having virtually NO support for being a philosopher (adding to philosophy’s already complexities), discussing some of my OWN personal problems (which is related to the beginning about how complicated philosophical problem-solving is), discussing some of my processes so that hopefully this article makes more sense to you (experience tells me it won’t), explaining how complicated these associations ARE to you (because they’re all about looking for answers: even if they are about different questions at once (which are related, because you’re looking for answers)), etc.

This is how complicated the process is: you begin with questions, then you make associations.

All of these associations are related to philosophy: discussing how complicated it is, introducing a few issues, stating how difficult it is for me personally, stating how lengthy it is, stating how apparent tangents are really complexly related, trying to explain your processes to people while trying to prove that there is a method to the madness, etc. etc.

You have only now begun to enter the philosopher’s mind, but I will end this piece now for the sake of publishing because perhaps you can begin to see how complicated the introduction to philosophy is.

If this article leaves you feeling like its a cliffhanger: congratulations.

The philosophical piece was a success.

Now, go find some things to associate with this piece, and you will be on your next step.

Welcome to the philosopher’s mind.

The only exit is ignorance, and that isn’t enough for me.

Welcome to my Hell.

This piece isn’t exactly what I want it to be, but its enough of an introduction for publishing because the work is never done.

This is only the first piece: I am sure I will write sequels in the decades to come.